Dispersa Narniae
by Laura Andrews
Summary: Written for a prompt challenge. Ten unrelated drabbles or almost-drabbles . Formerly entitled 'Aequaliter Quae Narnia'


**Dispersa Narniae**

**A/N:** These were written for a challenge using ten randomly-generated words. WillowDryad, OldFashionedGirl95, and MissShakespeare72 also participated, so be sure to check their stories out!

OldFashionedGirl came up with the title _Aequaliter Quae Narnia_, which means 'Scattered Things of Narnia' according to Google Translate. However, Calyn helpfully gave me a more accurate title of _Dispersa Narniae_, which means the same thing; which is why the title has been changed. None of these are really related to the other except that they all have to do with Narnia

Enjoy!

_**BONUS**_

Lucy had always looked at the knife as something extra, something that did not quite go with a cordial. She always brought it along, of course, just in case, but her bow had been of more use to her than the little dagger with a golden lion's head. Sometimes she wondered why Father Christmas had given it to her in the first place, though of course it was beautiful. But now, as she lay helpless in the early winter snow, with one of the Witch's wolves springing down upon her, she breathed a prayer of gratitude and stabbed upwards.

_**JUDGMENT**_

The donkey's long ears drooped as he was herded onto the cattle boat. The herding was done with all due ceremony, of course, but King Lune heaved a great, good-natured guffaw as he saw the creature and remembered that scarce three days ago it had been the crown-prince of the mightiest empire of that part of the world. The punishment had been just; Lune had no doubt of that. But his kind heart wished that Rabadash had turned out differently.

"Even a traitor may mend."

But could a tyrant?

_**GRAMMAR**_

Explaining proper forms of speech to the Moles was a hard task. Edmund found this out when he corrected the Chief of Diggings and Excavations himself, Blackpaw.

"It's not _Ain't near 'nough cleared space for diggin' a well here,_" Edmund said. "It should be, 'There is not nearly enough cleared space to dig a well here.'"

"Why, bless yer heart, yer majesty!" quoth Blackpaw. "Sure 'nough but it were His Own Majesty King Frank what talked thataway, an' maybe you should be a'takin lessons from him!"

Edmund had given up, and he even fell into talking that way himself when around the Moles.

_**DIAPER **_

"Mummy!" cried Susan. "Mummy, I change' da nappy for Lu!"

Mrs. Pevensie came into the room and saw six year old Susan bending over Lucy. A skewed diaper had been pinned on the baby, and Susan's face was all aglow with pride.

"Oh, well done Susan!" Mrs. Pevensie said. "But, dear, see these pins? They might stick into Lu if you're not careful."

"I know, Mummy. I putted my finger right there, so it would stick me an' not her."

"You will make a fine mother someday, Susan," Grace said fondly, placing a kiss on her daughter's cheek.

_**SHILLY-SHALLY**_

Edmund had been told by a Faun that the Galmian ambassador's daughter was stunningly beautiful, in the most poetic words he could think up. Which was why his feet dragged far behind Peter's as they proceeded to the banqueting hall. The pretty girls always fluttered their lashes at him and laughed over nothing and generally made nuisances of themselves. Whenever this happened, Edmund was sure to let slip some remark which left the girl in tears as Peter tried to reassure her that 'His Majesty didn't mean it; he has had a trying day.'

"Well, it wasn't trying until you showed up."

_**STRAY**_

Lucy never forgot the day Susan began giving her instruction in archery.

She had already hit the target twice out of four tries. The other two had plowed into the dirt near the target. This time, determined to get the bull's eye, she concentrated harder. _Twang!_ The arrow left the string, but veered wildly and disappeared into a thicket. There was a cry of pain, and Lucy ran to the place, where she found an old Groundhog. She healed the wound in his side with her cordial, but it was some time before she went back to the archery range.

_**BUNNY**_

Edmund was outraged when he heard that a talking Bear had been eating talking Rabbits. He and Peter went out to investigate and met with several tearful Rabbit families who had lost little ones. They promised them restitution and justice and went after the Bear. However, it turned out in the end that only one Bunny had been eaten, and not by another talking beast. The Rabbits had thought that they could get some sort of profit out of their story; all they got out of it in the end, however, was embarrassment when they were found out.

_**EXPRESSIONIST**_

"I don't understand, Eustace," said Alberta. "How can you like that horrid picture? Really, it has no emotion whatsoever. Whoever painted it had no soul."

"But it really is a work of art, Alberta," he replied. "Just because it isn't Van Gogh…"

Alberta looked as if she had been struck. Her face turned red. She didn't believe in God, but Van Gogh was close enough for her. His paintings were her most highly prized possessions and at least one decorated each room of the house (except for the spare bedroom).

"This discussions is over, Eustace Clarence Scrubb."

_**CURSIVE**_

Peter handed in his papers to the Headmaster with a slight bow. The Headmaster thought that the Pevensie boys were the oddest lads he had ever encountered. Take the papers, for instance. They were not written in cursive or even in print, but in a flourishing, flowery script that, besides being fit to grace a royal invitation, was almost indecipherable. He sighed. Of course, there was nothing at all strange about Pevensie's beautiful handwriting. Of course not. He was just one of those… exceptional boys, the kind he had always hoped to have in his school. Well, now he had 'em.

_**CONTRITE**_

Jill knew she had muffed the signs. It was her fault, and she freely admitted it. Even when Puddleglum and Eustace tried to take some of the blame, she still felt the weight in her heart. It came back to haunt her in the darkness after the long fall, and she cried out silently,

"Oh, Aslan, I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry. Please help us."

Before the words were done forming, the voice of an Earthman spoke to them; an unlikely answer to a prayer, but an answer nonetheless, as she realized much later.


End file.
